Bond of Dignity
by Light of Hope
Summary: Say Timber never needed liberation; say Ultimecia never existed. Say Squall is meeting Rinoa for the very first time--opposing her in war. Squinoa/Seiftis.
1. Default Chapter

**Authors Note:** This story is actually something that will be straying from my usual perspectives, etc. Say Ultimecia never came to power--say Timber was always it's own country. Say Rinoa never met Squall--until now. Say that Garden was created solely to help antigovernment factions--and say that each country has it's own Garden, which also serves as a military base/army. Catch my drift? As always, this fanfic is a Squinoa, and Seiftis. And, as painful as it is to admit it, I do not own FF8 or Squaresoft..curse them.   
  
  
Bond of Dignity  
  
Rinoa closed her eyes, relieving herself from all worries she heald captive inside her mind. The warmth of her bed comforted her; it made her forget the things that ate away at her soul. The wind outside her window flowed slowly as if calming the pain she felt. It whistled softly, sending tingles down her spine. She pulled the covers over her chest, shielding herself from the cold winter night.  
  
  
There was so much to be done in preparation for what was happening. There was so much to consider in the war--the war she was calling out upon Balamb Garden. War had been the last thing she wanted, and yet it was inevitable. Her peers, colleagues, and advisors had all urged her to call a war.   
  
  
To her, war meant deaths. Innocent lives would be stolen from the hands of hundreds; their blood spilled by her own fighters. Even by herself. The thought chilled her to the bone, sending goose bumps to cover her body. She bit her lower lip. Why was she doing this? She had the power to stop it - and yet, she did not. She had her reasons, reasons that she was not willing to share.   
  
  
She would keep these goals to herself. If she were to go to war with balamb, it would cause disorder to the town. Balamb, at the current time, served as both Esthar's and it's own Garden. She was told that this was because the Commander of Balamb Garden was the president of Esthar's son. This, she knew, was a problem. Esthar was known for it's incredible technology and military tactics. With it's power and Balambs willingness to accept it, they were unstoppable.   
  
  
Her only hopes of defeating Balamb were allies. She needed all of them she could get. Galbadia had already offered it's services, seeing as how her father was the general of the country. She chuckled to herself. Balamb's commander may have his advantages, but so did she. However, Galbadia by itself would certainly not be enough to stop her enemy. She knew that Centra Garden had sided with Balamb. She would need the help of Dollet and Deling. Deling, being the capitol of Galbadia itself, would undoubtedly help her. Dollet, too, she knew.   
  
  
With them, the small Garden of Timber would become much larger. With them, she just might even out her chances of defeating Balamb. Even them out, but not give her the greater advantage. It would, after all, be a war of the brain. Whoever commanded their garden and allies with more depth and strategical advancement would win the war. She knew she was smart; nobody could oppose Balamb better than Rinoa Heartilly. However, she had heard many things about Commander Leonhart. She did not know his first name, hell, she didn't even know if the commander was a he'. She assumed he was.   
  
  
_Leonhart._ What a last name. She chuckled out loud to herself. It sounded so unrealistic, but at the same time, it was believable. She had heard great things about him. His knowledge of battle surpassed that of any other commander in the history of Balamb. He was also known for his supposed good looks. _I'll believe it when I see it. He's probably some 40 year old obese man with a mustache. _She laughed again. It wouldn't surprise her if he was indeed a creep. With that image sealed in her mind, she drifted off to sleep.  
  
____________________  
  
  
  
_Three-hundred-ninety-seven, three-hundred-ninety-eight, three-hundred-ninety-nine, four-hundred.'  
  
  
_Squall Leonhart relaxed his stiff muscles. His daily workout ended. He stood, yawned, and stretched; his incredibly muscular figure rippling under his movements Squall walked over to his bed, where he sat and removed his black training boots. He yawned again, this time walking across the checker tiled floor towards his bathroom. He glanced out his window, where he saw the moonlight being soaked in by the ocean waves of Centra. It was a beautiful night. The silver necklace of the sky lay whole, glimmering down upon it's on lookers. Squall felt out of place; feeling so miserable and stressed on so peaceful a night.  
  
  
The 18 year old commander of balamb garden turned the knob of his shower, watching as the hot water cascaded down onto the white tile. He removed his pearl colored tank top, black pants, and leather gloves, and stepped into the shower. The calming rush of water seemed to relax his sore muscles. sighing, he began to once again assess his situation.  
  
  
48 hours ago, Timber Garden declared war upon Balamb. He saw it coming a mile away, it did not disturb him in the least when his second in command, Quistis Trepe, informed him of a letter they had received via messenger. The rain-splattered parchment had told him that, due to the recent disappearance of the Timberian SeeD's dispatched to Balamb, Timber had no other choice but to revolt against the killings.  
  
  
The killings?  
  
  
There had been no killings; atleast not by Balamb. If they were, indeed, by Balamb people, he was not aware of it. The killings had been individual attacks, not direct assaults against the nation. And Galbadia..along with Timber...knew it. That was another problem. Who had been killing these Timberian cadets during training, he had no idea. Why they were taking it out on Balamb was another piece of which he was clueless; that served as yet another problem. What advantage would they get out of the destruction of Balamb Garden, he did not know.   
  
  
There were so many things he did not know. Normally, he would contact the Timberian commander himself; however, the person placed in charge he had not been aquainted with. The former commander of Timber, CMDR Bach, he knew. If Bach was still in charge, the war would have not sprung; and if by some chance it had, it would have been easily dealt with.   
  
  
But this new commander, he had heard, was a stubborn person. He had been utterly shocked when told she was a women. Shocked, but at the same time relieved. He was not one to stereotype, for his second in command was indeed a women. However,women joining the Timber Garden had just recently been allowed. Before a year ago, only men could train and become SeeD's. This women, no doubt, had only had a year of experience. Squall himself had had nine.   
  
  
He poured the thick, white shampoo into the palm of his hand and began scrubbing his silky brown hair. There wasn't much he could do about the war now, he was in the middle of Centra Ocean at 1 AM. Quistis had gone to bed, and his assistant, Seifer Almasy, had probably done the same. With Quistis, he didn't know--and didn't care to know. He almost smiled at the thought. No one would have suspected two years ago that Quistis Trepe, former instructor, would be dating the most rebellious student to ever hit garden.   
  
  
He brushed that thought out of his mind, and allowed the water to rinse his hair free of the suds. The Timberian general came to mind again. He wondered what she was like; was she smart? Courageous? Attractive? He nearly choked at his thought._ Attractive_? The thought of women had never before crossed his mind. He had been too consumed in war, running garden, and dealing with other affairs to worry about his romantic life. Hyne, he didn't even HAVE a romantic life. He had never before had a girlfriend, he had never before even _kissed_ a girl.  
  
  
This, everyone found surprising. Nearly every single female cadet, SeeD, and faculty member in garden swooned when the commander walked by. His presence caused most women to become weak in the knees. When spoken to, they would stutter, blush, and bite their lip. This was not a surprising reaction. He was...to put it bluntly...beautiful. His hair was soft and silky, the color of chocolate. His skin was pale and untouched, and of course cleanly shaven. But what was most intriguing about Squall Leonhart was his eyes. His eyes seemed to captivate a person. The icy blue color hid something more complex. There was fire in that ice, burning to escape. Passion; desire; strength. All of this could be seen simply by glancing into a man's eyes.  
  
  
He hardly considered himself a man. His eighteenth birthday had passed a few months ago, and upon it's arrival, he had been given the position of commander. His age accommodated the requirement, hence forth, he was given he title of commander. Squall had graduated top of his class a year ago, followed by Seifer Almasy. Quistis had graduated top of class the year before, making the three of them quite the team.  
  
  
Their being bright was a blessing, undoubtedly, but it also caused a bit of a problem. They all saw things differently, through different eyes. Seifer was outgoing. He showed little restraint. Quistis, on the other hand, was calm and reserved. She was a very agreeable women. She had the ability of being able to see through the eyes of an enemy quite well, and for this, she was valuable. Squall himself was cool and collect, always able to assess a situation perfectly. He always seemed to know exactly what to do in all types of occurrences. He was a quick thinker and an extremely brilliant man. The three of them together, brainstorming, was quite the amusing event. Seifer would be bitching about something, Quistis countering everything he said, and a very peeved Squall would tell them to shut the hell up and let him handle the situation.   
  
  
However, recently, their arguments had stopped. They all realized the seriousness of their predicament, and were willing to hear what the other had to say. Most of the time, they agreed on aspects. As of now, the only issue they disagreed on was what to do about the shortage of SeeD. Sure, they had every bit as much as the Timber government. But that would not win them the war. What were they supposed to do? Stop when everyone was dead? Kill each other?  
  
  
Squall stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his bare waist. He glanced in the mirror, decided he didn't need to shave, and flipped off the switch of his bathroom light. Reaching into his dresser, he grabbed a pair of plaid boxers, and slid them on. It was too hot a night to wear anything more. Still around his neck, draped a silver chain pendant by which the carving of a lion hung. It was his family heirloom, griever. On his finger rested a ring with the same shape carved into it, another heirloom. He had had them since he was a child, since his mother died giving birth to him. He did not remove them - ever - for when he did, he felt incomplete.  
  
  
He slid underneath the navy blankets of his bed, switching the light of his lamp off. He reached a long arm to the floor, where he slid his index finger across the blade portion of his lionheart. He could no rest assured that lionheart would be there--if it was needed. For tonight, he had an eerie feeling it would be.  
  
  
  
  
  
**  
Authors Note:** here we have it folks, the first chapter in--what I'm hoping to be--a very long, complicated fanfiction. I know exactly where I'm headed with this thing, so updates will be frequent. Please let me know what you think with any suggestions or comments. Thanks! [also, if you would like me to email you whenever you update, you can tell me so-- rikku@twisted.nu. Au revoir!]


	2. Indecisive

**Authors Note:** ::huggleglompsquish:: I love you guys! Too kind, mind you. Okay...the pressure is on. I supposedly have a fairly interesting idea going on here; so I better write some good chapters and not slack off. Hopefully, that won't be the case. Hopefully, I'll do some crazy stuff with this fic. I'm swarming with ideas, too many at once...ugh..must..type...  
  
  
**Bond of Dignity; CHAPTER TWO: Indecisive  
  
  
  
** Squall awoke to the sound of morning dew drops misting against his window. Pink rays of sun shown through his curtain, making a shape not unlike a heart. That was odd. He stood, and opened the curtain fully, allowing the sunlight to bathe his body. He had never been one for love, or anything of the sort really. The symbol the sun cast had only reminded him of his being..alone. He yawned and stretched, lazily walking to where his dresser stood. After selecting a pair of black jeans, a belt to match, and a white t-shirt, he walked back to his bed. Slipping the clothes on, he yawned once again. He was not in the least bit surprised at his fatigue, he had gone to bed somewhere in the vicinity of 1:30. Now he was awake at 5:00.   
  
  
_ Such is the responsibility of being commander_, he thought, combing his hair with his fingers. He slipped on his black boots, and, after brushing is teeth, left his dorm. Thoughts of the war soon flooded his tired mind. It had not been acted on as of now, and for that, he was grateful. He could not deal with a direct assault right now, for he had yet to plan out his strategy. All things considering, they had a pretty good chance.   
  
  
His train of thought was broken as he was approached by a very tired Quistis, who, despite the early hour, looked as beautiful as ever. Squall almost smiled at the sight of her. Quistis had always been the equivalent of a sister to him, nothing more and nothing less. The thought crossed his mind more than once of being romantically involved with her, but there was no connection--atleast not on his side of the coin.  
  
  
Morning, commander, she greeted, a warm smile gracing her pink lips.  
  
  
he nodded, acknowledging her presence.  
  
  
They walked down the hall, side by side, stern looks forming on their faces. Silence was something they were not accustomed to. However, both had too much on their minds to casually talk. There was so much tension at garden, and they felt that needed to be dealt with before all was well. Not being able to stand the silence, Quistis spoke.  
  
  
Has anything developed? she asked, not slacking in her pace.  
  
  
They reached the elevator, and Squall selected the 3B floor. Stepping into the enclosed area, they noticed two female SeeD's staring at Squall from behind.  
  
  
Stop looking at his butt, one said, between muffled giggles. Unfortunately for them, Squall heard the comment, and glared at the two. Before they could enter the elevator, he pushed the close button.  
  
  
Regarding the war? No, nothing new has developed since yesterday. I suspect that Timber, like us, has yet to form a strategy. I wouldn't be surprised if they wait till last minute, what with the new commander and all.  
  
  
I don't think there is going to _be_ a last minute, Squall. I have an inkling that this war will be long; and until we figure out what it is Timber thinks they are gaining from it, there will be much more suffering. She sighed.  
  
  
_What a depressing comment, _he thought to himself. However, he knew what she said was true. There was something Timber wanted from this war, something big. The soldiers of Balamb all wanted badly to know what that was. He did not respond to her statement, he had always been one to keep personal opinions to himself. He spoke his mind in important business matters, but other than that, he was pretty much the loner type.  
  
  
They reached the 3B lobby, and Quistis followed Squall into his office. They were both surprised to see Seifer sitting in Squall's chair, feet crossed and resting on the surface of the desk. Squall placed a hand on his hips and gestured for Seifer to sit elsewhere. Seifer did as ordered, and sat at his own desk, which happened to be much smaller than Squalls. Prior to the war, Seifer had decided that he and Quistis move their desk's into Squall's office for the time being. He had said that _it would be easier to communicate that way_.' Squall himself thought he just wanted an excuse to be with Quistis as much as possible. He wasn't too far off, either.  
  
  
Well, commander, I have some information I'm sure you'd be interested in hearing, said Seifer, a sly grin forming on his near-perfect features.  
  
  
Cut to the chase, Seifer. I don't feel like putting up with your riddle crap. Seifer crinkled his nose at this, annoyed that Squall was in such a pissy mood.  
  
  
Squall sometimes wondered why he put up with Seifer. The man was a pain in the ass, most of the time. But, he did possess incredibly outstanding battle skills - and his way of thinking was beyond compare. He was indeed a valuable asset to garden.  
  
  
I've found out from a reliable source what our little friend's name is, he said, resting his hands on the back of his head.  
  
  
  
  
  
Heartilly. Ring a bell? he replied, raising his brow.  
  
  
Yeah..can't quite remember exactly where I've heard it though, said Squall.  
  
  
General Caraway - do you remember him? Seifer asked, now sitting up straight. The man was just bursting with information; and it didn't surprise Squall in the least. How seifer always knew exactly what was going on; it was beyond him.  
  
  
Yeah. Galbadian general, right? Squall said, tilting his head to the side.  
  
  
Julia Heartilly is his deceased wife, Seifer said. Another grin formed on his face, pleased with himself for gaining this information. It would be useful to them, he knew, because Timber was trying to hide it. Seifer found it interesting she didn't go by CMDR Caraway--which made it even more probable the Timber faction was trying to keep it a secret.  
  
  
You're telling me that this girl is general Caraway's_ daughte_r !? Oh hyne, that is really going to fuck up our plans. A lot. Contact Trabia Garden, we need more reinforcements.  
  
That's not all, Seifer said, it seems that Caraway is taking matters into his own hands. He's launched missles at our garden, Trabia, and Centra gardens--all without Heartilly's knowledge. We've got a problem on our hands, Squall.  
  
  
  
______________________  
  
  
Rinoa walked hastily; firmly; a stern and hard look on her face. She wore her Timberian SeeD uniform, green skirt and top, pins assorted throughout the clothing. She was as angry as Rinoa could be. Timber Garden had decided to side with Balamb. Irvine Kinneas, head honcho there, had said he would remain neutral throughout the war. She knew, without being told, that he would undoubtedly side with Balamb --but the hope still lingered.  
  
  
This gave Balamb the advantage. Well, not really--it evened out the allies. Balamb was far superior to Timber, this she knew, and now with Trabia backing them up, they would surpass the power of any known enemy Timber has ever faced.   
  
  
_ And yet she walked on._  
  
  
She would not back down. She would do no such thing; she would stand tall, even if it meant defeat. She would not allow Balamb to make a fool of her; she needed to avenge the people of Timber who had lost their lives to the Balamb soldiers. She did not stop until she stepped into the meeting hall, where she found her second in command, Selphie Tilmitt, and partners, Watts and Zone, waiting for her.   
  
  
What do you know about Trabia Garden? she asked Selphie. Her voice was harsh; cold; demanding. Selphie had been a transfer from Trabia, she had originally planned on transferring to Balamb...but Timber had offered her a scholarship.   
  
  
Heeey..what's Trabia got to do with anything? she asked. She, too, thought trabia was remaining neutral.  
  
  
They're siding with Balamb. We have to take them down-- she was sympathetic, but her voice bared no backing down.  
  
  
You don't mean... Selphie asked, a confused look forming in her green eyes.  
  
  
We're blowing it up. Rinoa's words were so blunt, so flat. No emotion was detected in it.   
  
  
Selphie nearly passed out. It was so unlike Rinoa to do anything of the sort--it would cause more casualties, and Rinoa didn't want that. Hell, it would cause a good 3000 deaths! And to her former home! To the place she grew up in! How could Rinoa expect her to launch out orders to destroy her home? She wouldn't do it--but she couldn't betray Timber. The past or the present--which was more important? And then there was the future. What she chose now would greatly affect it.   
  
  
Rin, there's gotta be another way. You can't just..  
  
  
Rinoa's voice softened, there is no other way. We can't win this war if we don't--  
  
  
Don't you get it!? So many people will lose their lives! You'll kill innocent people! Children! And you expect me to blow up my home?! I won't do it Rin. You can find another robot.   
  
  
Rinoa was completely astonished at Selphie's outburst. Selphie was never one to show restraint, certainly, but she hardly ever blew up like that. And maybe she was right. Maybe Rinoa was acting too irrational. But what else was she supposed to do? Contact Trabia herself? Or maybe schedule a meeting between her, Kinneas, and Leonheart. That seemed the better idea.  
  
  
she said, admitting defeat. I won't...blow up Trabia. I'll schedule a meeting between all three commanders, she grimaced at the thought of having to meet Leonheart, but--if push comes to shove, and Trabia does decide to side with Balamb, then...  
  
  
I know, selphie said, but I have a feeling they'll stay confident in their original neutrality.  
  
  
I sure hope so, Selph. Zone, do me a favor, schedule a conference between Irvine Kinneas, Leonheart, and myself. Make sure it takes place in Esthar; I don't want them thinking it's a trap. Oh, and make sure it's this weekend--I don''t care which day.  
  
  
With that, she turned, and left the conference room, a million thoughts flooding through her head. She stopped, one thought in particular sticking out. It was a random thought, one that never should have popped up--  
  
  
_ Why, exactly, were they at war?  
  
  
_She had been told it was because of the casualties in Balamb. But, when she really thought about it, was that really a reason to go to war? It was an oxymoron, actually. Go to war and kill more soldiers because five were killed while training in Balamb. She had been told that was the reason for war; and she had never questioned it. But now, she really didn't know.  
  
  
What would happen at this meeting? Would they be able to make a direct decision? Perhaps, if all went well, the war would end then and there...No, she didn't have the authority to make that sort of decision. That was even more terrifying. She had no control over the war. She was just supposed to manage it. How was she supposed to do so when she had no say in what happened?  
  
  
____________________  
  
  
Sir? Commander Kinneas? There is a man here to see you. Seems he's a messenger from Balamb. A voice sounded over the intercom which Irvine recognized to be Dempsey's. Dempsey was his second in command, who also happened to be his secretary. He chuckled at the thought. They were so very efficient at Trabia.  
  
  
Let him in, Irvine said casually, tipping his cowboy hat over his head.  
  
  
Soon enough, the double doors slid open, and a short guy with spiky blonde hair emerged. He wore the Balamb Mercenary uniform, which eased Irvine's doubts about him being a spy. The boy saluted him and proceeded to speak.  
  
  
Dincht, Zell Dincht, sir. Sent by Commander Squall Leonheart at twenty-one hours sir, the boys voice was anxious, as if dying to flood the commander with information.  
  
  
irvine grumbled. What's Squallie-boy got to say?   
  
  
Irvine was unprofessional. He had always been that sort of man. He took his garden matters into his own hands, feeling that politics and certain behaviors was a load of shit to intimidate common folks and make themselves look good. He had always felt that way, and he wasn't about to change it. Puzzled at Irvine's being so casual, Zell continued.  
  
  
Commander Leonheart has just received notice that uh--  
  
  
Permission to speak freely granted, said Irvine sarcastically.  
  
  
Squall just got a letter from CMDR. Heartilly. She want's a meeting between the three of you. Zell seemed rather baffled at not having to speak with respect towards the Trabian Commander.  
  
Yeah, aright. Irvine stood, walking towards his calander with a black marker at hand.  
  
  
This weekend, the twenty-seventh, said Zell.  
  
  
asked Irvine, annoyed that Zell had not provided him with this information.  
  
  
Esthar City. Zell most certainly did not like Kinneas. He had shoved away the tradition of formalities in garden. He dismissed the thought, knowing it was not his place to think such things.  
  
  
Gotcha. See ya there, kid. Tell your commander I'll make it.  
  
  
Irvine sat back down, and slipped his cowboy hat over his eyes. Zell shook his head, thoroughly shocked at this guy. What in hyne's name had possessed Trabia to appoint _him _commander?  
  
  
  
** Authors Note:** There it is, hope you liked it ::gulp:: as always, please read and review with any suggestions or comments--or compliments. hehe. CH3 should grasp your interest a little more--it'll be the meeting between the three commanders. oooohhh, Squall is meeting Rinoa, Squall is meeting Rinoa ::runs in circles chanting::  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	3. Gateway to the Soul

**Authors Note:** I'm really surprised at the amount of attention this fanfic is getting, it's a rarity I get this many reviews--and on only two chapters! I really, really appreciate your taking time to review my story. It is a little action for you, but it means so much to me. Ahem. This is the chapter we have all supposedly been waiting for, the chapter where Rinoa meets Squall. It's going to be semi-long, I hope, so I suggest getting your soda and popcorn now. I'll stop now, I'm probably annoying the hell out of you.  
  
  
**Bond of Dignity, CH3 - - gateway to the soul  
  
  
  
** The words hit him like a pile of bricks. Why in the name of god was Caraway sending missiles to Balamb and their allied gardens? That was ridiculous. It was a stupid action of impulse, one that could easily cost him his rule over Galbadian armies. And Squall intended to make sure that happened. Even still, the idea of targeting missiles at any garden was completely ridiculous. Everyone knew that Gardens were mobile, but did Caraway?  
  
  
How does Caraway expect the missiles to hit--we could just as soon go to Centra, away from the Balamb fields target, Squall said, giving Seifer a questioning look.  
  
  
He supposedly has been working on these missiles for quite some time. They are supposed to follow the garden's square in their tracks--kind of like a magnet. Seifer's voice was calm, as if he, too, sensed the idiocy of the situation. Couldn't Heartilly fend for herself? Couldn't _she_ take care of garden affairs?   
  
  
Squall found this to be a problem. If what Seifer was saying was true, then there was no way any of the gardens could avoid being hit.   
  
  
So, how are we to avoid them? asked Squall, his heart beginning to pound a bit more rapidly than he would have liked.  
  
  
Seifer paused, a slight sign of conceited being pursed on his face. Squall knew from this expression that the attack could be stopped; his muscles eased out of their tension, and his heart gradually began to slow.  
  
  
Turn off the power. The missiles are attracted to the energy that fuels the Gardens, Seifer said, shrugging as he did so. _Well, that seems easy enough,_ squall thought. It seemed a little too easy.   
  
  
It's that simple? Squall allowed his thoughts to come out into words.  
  
  
Well, atleast Seifer was relaxed about the whole situation. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing, and why he was doing it. Perhaps, when this was all over, Squall could appoint _him_ Commander. Even after a year, Squall was getting as tired as could be with the job.  
  
  
Well, if that's all we need to do...then we still have a problem. A thought crossed his mind, thankfully enough. There was one set back. They were in the middle of the ocean, on their way to Esthar. If they were to stop power, they could not continue.   
  
  
How so? Seifer frowned at this, unwilling to believe that his seemingly perfect plan had a fault.  
  
  
How the hell are we supposed to get to Esthar? Heartilly demanded a meeting, remember?  
  
  
No problem, man. I have this all taken care of. Seifer grinned, which caused Squall to wonder what the hell this guy was plotting. What was he going to do? Have someone pick them up? The other allies were all targeted by missiles, as well.  
  
  
Look, just trust me, ok? Seifer said, noticing the look of worry on Squall's features.   
  
  
The commander did not trust people easily. This was a known fact. He didn't want his life in other peoples' hands...and he didn't want other people's lives in his own. He debated whether or not to give in to Seifer's plan. Normally, he would be all for it, but Seifer was not telling him all. It seemed the man wanted to surprise him. He didn't find this shocking.  
  
  
Quistis, alert Kinneas at Trabia, and Demming at Centra. Tell them missiles are headed towards them. Tell them to turn of their power, and hurry up. He paused, and after a moment of unidentifiable looks, he spoke. Seifer, you better hope for your sake we have a way to get to Esthar.  
  
  
____________________  
  
  
Quistis walked over to her desk, pulling out a filing cabinet on which the needed phone numbers rested. She did not like the fact she had been ordered to take action, Squall should have been doing that himself. She was not a slave. She did not work for him. She worked _with_ him, or so she thought.   
  
  
She quickly dismissed the thought as the phone began to ring.   
  
  
said a hoarse, young voice.  
  
  
Quistis Trepe, second in command at Balamb Garden. I need to speak to Commander Kinneas immediately. Her voice was firm, yet polite. She had learned through her experience that the quickest way to gain access to someone in authority was to state your place.   
  
  
Yer talkin' to him, said the voice, who was apparently Kinneas.  
  
  
Turn off your power. Caraway has launched missiles at Centra and Trabia gardens, they are like magnets--attracted by the power source. Turn it off, now.  
  
  
There was a moment of silence.  
  
  
You serious? asked Irvine on the other line, his voice sounding a little skeptical.  
  
  
Of course I'm serious, now do as I tell you unless you want to be fried. I must go alert Centra, I shall see you at the meeting this afternoon. Transportation will be provided, be prepared to embark at twenty three hours.  
  
  
With that, she hung up. She had never been one to like Commander Kinneas much, he had always seemed rude and arrogant to her. He was a queer man, always putting himself before others. This was probably why she had been so shocked when he agreed easily to break his neutrality and side with Balamb. _Seifer probably threatened to kill him_, she thought, grinning. She wouldn't put it past him, Seifer Almasy was a sneaky one. She sighed, and dialing, prepared to tell Commander Demming the news. All the while, she wondered what Seifer was plotting in means of transportation...  
  
  
_______________________  
  
  
  
  
  
Aright, let's get this frickin' show on the road! Seifer yelled as he rubbed his hands together. The tall man had a look on his face that clearly showed he was proud of himself for something. What it was, Squall wasn't so sure he wanted to know. Seifer had little restraint. Squall would not have been surprised if he forced a ferryman all the way out here under death threat. He nearly laughed at the thought of Seifer sticking his hyperion under another man's throat, ordering him to drag his ferry out to Balamb Garden.   
  
  
Quistis grumbled, placing a delicate hand on her forehead.  
  
  
Here we have it!  
  
  
Squall turned to where Seifer was pointing in the sky, and nearly toppled over. He didn't know whether it was because of shock or the wind gusts, but either way, he was completely baffled. There in the sunlight, a large, red ship flew. The ship was in the shape of what looked like a Lion or a Dragon, Squall could not tell. It was flying at a relatively high speed, he suspected this was the cause of the seemingly random wind storm. The ship looped several times in the air, and slowly landed on the port Seifer had docked at Balamb.  
  
  
They call it the ragnarok, he said, his eyes glowing with pride at the ship. Had Laguna send it over from Esthar. She's pretty nice, eh? he said, slanting his hand and placing it over his eyes, so as to get a better look at the ship ahead of them. This, Squall found amusing. The clouds had covered up the sunlight for the time being. Seifer had nothing to be shielding his eyes from.  
  
  
Hyne, Seifer. You come up with the strangest ideas. Quistis tried to conceal a smile. She was actually finding it to be a relatively bright idea, but she thought it best to not let Squall be aware of this. He looked as though he was rather skeptical.  
  
  
Who's flying that? asked Squall, squinting at the airship.  
  
  
That hyper kid, Dincht. Seifer had never liked Zell, which was surprising. Everyone always said that opposites attract. Those two were polar opposites.   
  
  
he replied, trying to hide his forehead with his hand. With Zell flying the ship, it would be a long and somewhat dangerous trip.   
  
  
Have they got Kinneas on board? Squall asked, looking at Seifer.  
  
  
It would be more convenient if Kinneas were already on board. This would spare him a lot less time in getting to the meeting. He wanted to get in there, quickly, and get out. It was a dream, he knew, for these things tended to take a lot longer than expected. He knew that it would last several hours - but at the same time, he was willing to wait that long. If it meant peace for Balamb, he was willing to wait however long it took.  
  
  
  
It was then that Seifer gestured for them to board the ship. Squall followed the man in the gray trench coat, still unknowing of what to expect. It was liable that they would all die in a crash--with Zell driving. Had it not been so late, he would have asked to learn the controls himself. Atleast then his life would be... in his own hands.   
  
  
______________________  
  
  
Rinoa tapped her finger nails against the transparent blue top of the Esthar meeting table. She had not argued when President Loire had security at every inch of the building, searching her for any explosives or unnecessary items. She hadn't approved, however, when a male guard had touched her in an inappropriate manner. She hadn't snapped at him, she hadn't even said anything. This was surprising, Rinoa was usually the type of women to put someone in their place. She had her reasons, and the others thought it best not to question them.  
  
  
She was growing impatient. Neither Commander Leonhart or Commander Kinneas had arrived. Had she gotten the dates wrong? No, she was specifically told that it would take place on this date. The guards would not have allowed her passage, anyway. She sighed, and sat erect, momentarily turning towards Laguna.  
  
  
They are not here yet. Is there a problem? she tried to sound as polite as she could. But not too polite--this was her opposers father, for hyne's sake. She knew her question was inane, certainly, but she was beginning to get angry. This was no hospitality--or maybe that was it. Maybe they were doing it to spite her.  
  
  
Well, uh..ma'm...it seems that uh...Garden was having some problems. They had to find other means of transportation.  
  
  
She was puzzled by his words. Both gardens were having technological malfunctions? That seemed highly unlikely. Laguna had probably sensed her puzzlement, for he spoke again.  
  
  
Well, it would seem that your father dispatched missiles to the gardens...they had to shut down power and find another way to get here.  
  
  
The words struck her like a slap in the face. Emotions began to rush through her veins. Betrayal; annoyance; hatred; embarrassment; fear. They were coiling inside her, unknowing of how to escape. The only thing she could do was scream.  
  
  
she shrieked--but was cut off by Laguna's assistant, Kiros.  
  
  
They're here.. he said shyly. His voice was anxious.  
  
  
Rinoa felt her adrenaline begin to pump. She would meet these people, these people she very well may winde up killing. She, in a way, wanted to become bonded with them, so she would have an excuse to not fight the war properly. She wanted to meet a mutual agreement. War was not her choice. She was forced into it. Looking back on her orders, she wished she had revolted.  
  
  
The door opened, which broke her train of thought. A man with red hair, who, much to her surprise, was dressed like a cowboy, strutted through the door.  
  
  
Kinneas, Irvine Kinneas. You can call me Irvine. He stuck out a hand for her to shake. She did so, surprised at his gesture. _Awful friendly_, she thought. They were at war--but now, they all felt they were trying to make peace. Perhaps that was his reason for being so relaxed.  
  
  
A short man with black hair and a pointy nose followed him. This, she guessed, was Dempsey, his second in command. The man said nothing, but instead stuck out a shaky hand. She shook it, and forced a small smile. He returned it.  
  
  
_This is it,_ she thought, _Leonhart and company are coming in next._  
  
  
A very tall, blond man stood at the door. His chin was held up proud, and she was not surprised at this. He wore a gray trench coat, with the mark of power running up his sleeve. He was, indeed, very handsome.   
  
  
Seifer Almasy. Leonhart's partner. He made no gesture to greet her, only saluted Laguna and took his place at the other end of the table. At first, she had thought he was Leonhart. She sighed in relief--if he proved to be that good looking, a war would be a lot harder. She was still hoping he was...homely. Attraction would be a killer.  
  
  
The next to enter the room was a very ravishing women, with long, golden locks. Her make up was dark and seductive, (but of course not to Rinoa.)   
  
  
Quistis Trepe, second in command at Balamb Garden. She shivered. Was everyone there that good looking? She inhaled deeply, trying to get rid of the queazy feeling in her stomach. Leonhart was coming in next. She looked up slowly, and nearly melted at what she saw. A slight gasp escaped from her lips; but no one seemed to notice.  
  
  
What stood before her was the single most beautiful thing she had ever seen. He was tall, but not overly gigantic. His silky hair fell before his face, accentuating his perfectly formed facial structure. A scar was across his forehead--much like Almasy's. She took a mental note to ask about that. His eyes were---his eyes? She couldn't see them, he was looking downward. His pale eyelids covered them.  
  
  
He stood there for a moment, finally looking up. Rinoa nearly died. Just when she thought he could not get better looking, she was a victim to his eyes. They seemed alive in their own. The blue pools captivated her, and she thought then that she could die right then and there--and feel happy, for nothing she had seen before had ever been that beautiful. They were more than just eyes; they were the gateway to his soul. She was somewhat disappointed to see that they were so...cold. They were still beautiful, none the less.  
  
  
_How am I supposed to go to war with this?  
  
  
_The thought echoed in her mind. Surely, something this fascinating should be preserved. She wanted no harm to come to him. Hyne, she wanted him for herself. He was so perfect, everything about him only made him more attractive. She hoped to hyne that he was a jackass, for if he was not, there was NO way she was going to be able to carry on with this war. Even if he were a complete jerk, she would still have difficulty. That's just the effect he had on people. And for that, he remained grateful.  
  
  
Squall Leonhart, Balamb Garden Commander. Much to the rooms' surprise, and his own, he stuck out a steady hand for Rinoa to shake. She cautiously returned the shake, only as an excuse to gaze into his eyes. For a minute, their eyes were locked; unaware of anything around them. Blue met gold as, at the same time, their world's collided. The shake slowed, until gradually, they were simply holding hands, still lost in one another's gaze. It was Selphie that broke the two apart.   
  
  
she cleared her throat.  
  
  
Rinoa blushed furiously, but Squall remained calm. Years of practice gave him complete control over his emotions. It was then that she remembered she forgot to introduce herself. No matter, she thought, it had become quite apparent that he knew exactly who she was.  
  
  
she began, her voice trembling. We're here to discuss the Balamb/Timber war, and the neutrality you have broken. She finished her sentence by gesturing towards Kinneas. He looked blankly at her.  
  
  
If I may, why have you decided on supporting the Balamb function, Commander Kinneas? she asked, now back on task. As long as she did not look at Leonhart, everything should run as planned--but that was difficult. He was right across from her at the head of the table.  
  
  
  
Like, Balamb needs us. I've known Squall for a while now, see, so I figured he needed a favor.   
  
  
Squall said nothing. He was waiting for the right moment to pin down the facts one by one, and make Heartilly wish Timber had not declared war in the first place. He felt his heart soften as he looked at her, and could not understand how something so beautiful; so peaceful; so soft, could be involved in something so harsh. There were many things he did not understand, and thought it best to leave it at that. He could not afford to...love her. He jolted at the thought, and quickly dismissed it.  
  
  
I strongly urge you, Mr. Kinneas, to reconsider your decision. Her voice was emotionless; and she did not look at Squall.  
  
  
There was silence, then much to her surprise, Squall spoke.  
  
  
There is no reason for Mr. Kinneas to leave our side in battle. You have your allies. You are basically asking us to win you the war. I don't know about you, Ms. Heartilly, but I won't allow the people of my Garden to be slaughtered. Your father is General Caraway, you should not be worried about our affairs. I'm quite confident in saying that he will ensure your safety. Squall's voice was calm, relaxed, as if he were a professional at this kind of speaking.. His outer shell displayed this, but inside, his heart was beating rapidly; his blood rushing too fast. He wasn't a natural, and everyone that knew him also knew it was true. For some reason, this women calmed him; it made him feel tranquil.  
  
  
_Argumentative type_, she thought. _This oughta be fun_. Rinoa suddenly released from her trance. She would not be weak at his hands, she would struggle and persevere. There was something about Squall Leonhart that captivated her. Perhaps it was the eyes. She did not know. Love at first site? She shrugged off the thought, but it was not out of whack. It was almost as if she had known him for quite some time--as if she knew him before all this war mumbo jumbo. She knew, of course, that was not true - and yet..  
  
_She felt....as if she had loved him...  
  
_From what she could analyze about him, he was very cold. He seemed the type to keep in his emotions; and she knew this was no good. He did not seem self-absorbed; but he did seem absorbed in making one think he was conceited. Arrogance was a nice shell. He was not approachable by a commoner, but to Rinoa Heartilly, he was the _most_ approachable of all the people in the room.  
  
  
Mister Leonhart. As you know, with the help of Esthar, Balamb is the most technologically advanced military academy on the earth. You have Centra on your side, as well as the Estherian soldiers. We are a humble garden, probably the most humble of them all. Even with all our allies, the advantage is still in the hands of yours. We need Trabia to even out our chances. That is all. Satisfied with her answer, she sat back in her chair, and folded her hands across her abdomen.  
  
  
Squall nodded at her, seeming to acknowledge her ideas and perspectives. He thought them somewhat bold; here she was asking her enemy to help her add to Timber's chances of winning? Warped. It was several minutes before he spoke again, and nobody interrupted the silence.  
  
  
Out of curiosity, Ms. Heartilly, from a Timberian's perspective... he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. Why are we at war?  
  
  
The question took her aback. This was the one question she could not answer. This was the one question she did not know herself. She suddenly felt intimidated. He apparently could see right through her; he could see what she did and did not feel comfortable answering. It was as if he were in her mind; reading her thoughts; rummaging through filing cabinets that contained them.  
  
  
She cautiously ran through what she was going to say in her mind, and spoke.  
  
  
We...are at war because of the unnecessary casualties placed on Timberian cadets. Such occurrences were in the fault of Balamb.  
  
  
There is no evidence tying Balamb to the deaths! Indeed, it is more suitable to say the acts were individual. This should be settled in court, not through war! Think straight, Commander!  
  
He suddenly was filled with frustration...and annoyance. He _wanted_ an argument. He would have one. Squall would defend his purpose until he won. And he was right. Damn right. And he knew it. Hell, so did everyone else with him at the time. Rinoa was a proud women; she considered herself very smart. But she could see that Squall was no one to argue with. In a game of wits, he would emerge the winner. She could not afford that.   
  
Who else could it have been!? These individual acts were CLEARLY committed by a SeeD or Cadet. No average person could so...so brutally destroy our people! They are trained every bit as well as yours! she countered.  
  
  
What the hell? Talk about mood swings. One second he was calm, relaxed. The next he was on the edge of his seat glaring at her with that piercing blue. Dear hyne, what had she triggered? Where had she went wrong? Perhaps Leonhart was not the man she had made him out to be. Perhaps he was, in fact, a complete and utter imbacil.  
  
  
How do you know we ARE dealing with an average person?! For all you know, it could be another sorceress! he spat, now becoming red in the face.  
  
  
She didn't know how to counter this. She decided to B-S her way through.  
  
  
That's not the point. It is not my place to say why we are going to war, and it's not my place to question it--  
  
  
You're the damn commander, Heartilly! IT IS your place! Why don't you _get_ that? If what you say is true, and you aren't allowed your thoughts through council on this matter, THEN LEAVE TIMBER. YOU'RE ONLY HURTING YOURSELF.   
  
From this, she was puzzled. Hurting....herself? What did he care? He was only interested in winning the war for himself. He was only interested in pissing her off. He was an ass. Why was he so adimate about winning? Well of course, she knew, he didn't want to lose. He was the commander, after all. But there must have been a secondary reason. Was it for his ego? Certainly such a win would boost it...but that was besides the point. She shook her head to empty it of such thoughts.  
  
I'd like to speak with Mr. Leonhart alone, please, she said, gaining her calm. Everyone, looking quite dazed, left the room momentarily. Squall himself looked a little baffled.  
  
  
Mr. Leonhart. I don't have the information you are looking for. I do not have authority to call off the war, as I'm sure you know. She paused. If..if I were to find the person who has recklessly been committing these crimes, I am sure I could convince the council to put an end to this idiocy..  
  
  
_Well, that was dramatic, _Squall thought to himself. He did not know what to make of it. What was she getting at?   
  
Good. Glad to hear it. Now If you'll excuse me, I have an immobile garden to take care of. He turned and left.  
  
_What a bitch.   
  
  
_Those were his only thoughts.  
  
  
_What an...asshole!  
  
_Any attraction Rinoa had managed to dig up had been tossed away. That was it, he had proved it. He was an arrogant, egotistical, rude, S.O.B with nothing better to do than keep his reputation. She wouldn't deal with it. She wouldn't deal with him.   
  
  
This was going to be one hell of a war - _with or without the gardens involved.  
  
  
  
  
_**Authors Note:** holy god, that was long. XD took me like--three hours. O_O Please read and review, and tell me if that was sufficient. If not, I'll rewrite it. Oh, and don't worry, PLENTY of arguments...as well as sappy apologies...are coming. 


	4. Sadistic Being

**Authors Note: **Thanks for the reviews guys, I appreciate it. Glad you liked their meeting, it was....hard to write? No, I don't think hard is the word. More like an...agonizing, obnoxious, pain in the ass to write. Yeah, that's more like it! Alrighty Mayonaka, here's the deal. You update your ficcy, and I'll write the next chapter the same day you update. XD is that like...legal? Do I care? No? Well, you know me. Moving on!  
  
  
**Bond of Dignity - - CH4 ; Sadistic Being  
  
  
** Rinoa walked into Deling city. There was a firm look on her face, one that was unmistakably rage. Angry; no, that was not the proper definition. She was out raged. Completely and utterly disgusted. She had never been more embarrassed in her life.   
  
  
She slid her I.D card through the scanner, and, hastily, walked towards her Father's office. Her heels clicked against the tiled floor, rather loudly at that. People looked at her with questioning expressions. She sneered at them and, without knocking, entered Caraway's study.  
  
  
Rinoa slammed her folder down on his desk.  
  
  
What the FUCK do you think you're trying to pull? she screeched, her face flushed with red, her eyes wide with rage.  
  
  
  
She had never sworn at him before, but it went without saying, it was needed in this situation. Rinoa had no idea what he was thinking when he ordered missile launch..she supposed he wasn't. It was funny, really. Had the headmaster launched the missiles, or some higherarchy, she would not have been so distraught. She felt guilty, somewhat. She honestly could not figure out why she felt the way she did. But that was irrelevant. She _did _feel that way.   
  
  
  
Excuse me young lady? Don't talk to me that way.  
  
  
He didn't even look up at her. He continued scribbling something on a piece of paper, which Rinoa quickly snatched from him and ripped in half. She turned, and shut the door behind her. She figured that she, unlike her father, had sympathy to embarrassment. She would be doing a lot of that to him today.  
  
  
  
You look at me, old man, she began, now slamming her fist against his desk. What the hell were you _thinking_? Dispatching missiles to gardens. I'm commander, not you. I can handle this by myself. I'd appreciate it immensely if you stayed out of my fucking affairs. Her voice did not calm. All the while, Caraway stared at her, not believing that she wasn't grateful for what he had perceived to be help'.  
  
  
I'm not the one you should be bitching at, Rinoa. It was not my initiative. If you are going to blame someone, blame Chamberland. He ordered me to take action.  
  
  
  
What? Head master Chamberland ordered you to launch missiles at Balamb?  
  
  
  
It is not my authority to question his motives, nor is it in my place to question his orders. If you want answers, talk to him, I have work to do.  
  
  
  
Rinoa shut her eyes. She took a long breath, trying so desperately to gain her calm, and at the same time, take the heat off of her father. She had been a little impulsive, coming here, demanding to know what he was doing. She should have given him a chance to explain. Any good commander would have.  
  
  
_I'm NOT a good commander, _she thought to herself. Of course, this was not true. Nobody was better at commanding a garden and dealing with wars than Rinoa - except Squall Leonhart. This left her in a pretty crappy position. Of all the gardens, all the people, she had to be facing him. She had to do the impossible; out whit him.  
  
she began; this caused a sigh to escape from his lips. She still insisted on calling him Mr.Caraway instead of father or dad. Ever since her mother died...he shook his head vigorously to rid himself ot the thought. Such things were too painful to think about.  
  
  
Mr. Caraway, she repeated, I met Leonhart the other day.  
  
  
This caught his attention. Being the man that he was, to say the least, he had heard of Squall. He had heard every little detail about him, from his shoe size to the amount of training he does on a daily basis. He had also heard that the commander himself was quite the heart throb amongst the women. He looked up at her.  
  
  
he urged her to continue. Is he really as much of a bastard as portrayed to be?  
  
  
  
She sighed. she sighed again.   
  
  
  
He removed his glasses. What did you discuss?  
  
  
  
He's an asshole. Complete and utter jerk. I hate him. She blurted things out so suddenly.  
  
  
  
Thank you for explaining, he said.  
  
  
  
He doesn't want to negotiate. He only wants me to call off the war. He refuses to do much else.  
  
  
  
Caraway considered this. It made sense, he would most likely do the same if he were in Leonhart's shoes. He had tried to explain to Rinoa that her making the proposition of keeping Trabia neutral was a completely ridiculous idea. It made her look like a moron, an inexperienced fool. It was basically like saying, Hi, I can't win this war, cut me some slack, cause my garden is weak and I'm a shitty commander. She, of course, wouldn't listen.  
  
  
  
he said, Make him...another proposition. My bet is that Leonhart thinks you are, to put it lightly, double I. Illiterate and ignorant. She turned red at this. To gain his respect and to make yourself seem sincere; to redeem yourself; you need to make a proposition he has not thought of making. My suggestion to you, as an advisor, not as your father, is to ask him if he would...individually, without the support of garden...help you and only you in finding the criminal. That is, if what he is saying is true, and balamb has nothing to do with these casualties.  
  
  
  
Her head jolted at his words, She widened her eyes and furrowed her brow, making it clear she had no idea what the hell he was talking about. Such a proposition was clearly stupid. Why in the name of hyne would he want to do such a thing? He _hated_ her; as she did him. Rinoa couldn't stand to be in the same room as the son of a bitch. She sighed. It really wasn't all that bad an idea...but still...it would be a pain in the ass.  
  
  
  
Why would I want to do that? she asked him, more out of curiosity than anything else.  
  
  
  
Gain his trust and get the dish, if you know what I mean. But whatever you do, Rinoa, don't fall in love with him. And make sure he does not fall in love with you. For if this turns out to be the case, Chamberland will have him executed for scandal. I, personally, like Leonhart. He is a gift to this world, in a sense. As arrogant as he may be, he still knows how to command a garden. Someday, his allied forces could help us achieve. You have connections, Rinoa. Use them wisely.  
  
  
  
Well, that shouldn't be too tough - I mean...the love part. Who in their right mind could _ever_ love him? I'd shoot myself before falling for that bastard.  
  
  
  
____________________  
  
  
Squall muttered something that sounded like a curse, and ran his fingers through his disheveled hair. He wore, as required in balamb, his commander uniform. Cid had had uniforms made for all the top level individuals in garden. Squall's was, basically, the same as the SeeD uniforms--with the exception of coloring. The commander's uniform was white, black trim. His boots the same shade as the trim. He didn't much like the uniform, white had never been his color. Not that it did not look flattering on him; it did; but he thought white was a weak' color. It was light, feathery. Black was intimidating. Which was why he demanded the black trim after Cid insisted he wore white.  
  
  
Seifer had been thrilled when presented with _his_ uniform. They had chosen red for him and Quistis, most likely because of their coloring. Blonde; blue eyes. This made Squall crinkle his nose. Were they holding a fashion show? Why couldn't they simply wear what they felt like?   
  
  
He dismissed the thought and stepped into the hallway. For once he was alone, careless; or atleast as careless as one could be when fighting a war. And no one bothered him. Atleast not physically. He, of course, received the stares from the male cadets and SeeD's, and the giggles from the girls. He had always been annoyed by this. He quickened his pace to his office, noting the time on his silver watch. He was 10 minutes late already.  
  
  
He soon arrived, finding Quistis and Seifer positioned at their desks. Seifer had a hard look on his face; where as Quistis looked bewildered. She held the phone's receiver in her hand, raising it to meet Squall's. He gave her a look that clearly said what in the name of hyne? but did not question. Placing the receiver to his ear, he spoke.  
  
  
Commander Squall.  
  
  
Good morning commander, this is Heartilly.  
  
  
He nearly toppled over--actually, he would have, had Seifer not positioned a chair directly behind him. Slumping into the piece of furniture, he stuttered again.  
  
  
Uh..uh, yes, is there something you want? his voice was baffled and annoyed at the same time. He distinctly remembered their encounter two days before, sadly. Needless to say, he did NOT care much for commander Heartilly. Hell, he thought her the most annoying women he had ever had the displeasure of meeting.  
  
  
  
I am sorry if this is too early for you, Commander. But there is something I wish to speak to you about.   
  
  
Her voice was confident, which surprised him. And, for once, it seemed she was being considerate. This, he found amusing. He was no fool, nor was she. But at this point, he was beginning to think she was completely idiotic. She wanted something. Otherwise, she would not be being so cautious.  
  
I'm listening, he said.  
  
  
Well, um, sir, I would prefer speaking to you in person. This weekend, perhaps? The matter is of utmost importance, which is why I request seeing you personally.  
  
  
Squall sighed. Did she _ever _give up? She would, without a doubt, pull the whole help me win the war against you' act. And to hell would he give in. She was impulsive; inexperienced. This quality showed through her blatedly. She did not know how to properly conduct herself when dealing with the enemy. This, a commander could NEVER afford.   
  
  
It wasn't as if Squall himself had been top-notch when appointed commander. He distinctly remembered Cid having to tell him what, when, and how to do things over and over again. But, he had never made stupid decisions. His ability to deal with political figures surpassed that of any leader garden had ever had. It wasn't the past that mattered now--it was the present. And in the present, Squall Leonhart was the better of the two.  
  
  
  
  
I suppose, he sighed.  
  
  
  
Erm..I think it would be best that we do not make this meeting public. Meet me at the pub in Dollet this friday night. 8 pm. See you then, commander.  
  
  
Her voice was playful. He raised an eyebrow at her words, a little bedazzled at what she had proposed. What she would propose, he suspected, would be even more strange. She was a very, very strange person. And, strangely, she was intriguing.  
  
  
___________________  
  
So, Squall, didn't get a chance to talk to you earlier. What's the deal?  
  
  
Seifer took a sip of his black coffee. He tapped his shoe on the tiled floors of the cafeteria, a raised eyebrow gesturing towards Squall. Seifer himself had been able to draw many conclusions after the meeting. One of which was that they would win this war, needless to say. He had thought prior to their encounter that the rumors about Heartilly being so fantastic at what she does was true. He was doubtful now. She had been too forceful, and her proposition was completely absurd. Not only that, but he didn't like the way she and Squall had interacted.  
  
  
At first, he couldn't help but notice that gaping look she had given him. Then the gasp, and the nerves she was so openly showing. Before he had entered, she had seemed calm and confident. Yet she had melted under his gaze. It wasn't as if the attraction was one sided, either. He had most definitely had the same reaction. Sure, it wasn't to that extent, but Almasy could see the sparks flying. Something he had never seen Squall have before shown when he met her. Peace. This, he would have never expected. Hell, he didn't think squall _had _peace in his veins.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The phone call.  
  
  
  
Oh, that. She uh..she wanted to..to apologize.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The missile dispatching. It seems there was a misunderstanding. That's all.  
  
  
Without words, Squall brushed away the conversation, leaving Seifer open to strike up a new one.   
  
  
Seifer asked quietly, in a voice Squall had never heard him use before.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Ever think bout what life would be like without garden? If we had real families, and a place to call home?  
  
  
  
Squall stared at him blankly. Had he? Well, sure, once or twice, maybe..when he was a child. Now, sitting there, he seriously considered what life would be like. Different, that was for sure. How would he act? Would he be less cold? Less afraid of relationships? Would he be happier? Would he be living in a small country house by Winhill, fishing every day after schooling? Would he have brothers, sisters, cousins? Hell, what would his parents be like? For a moment, just a small fraction in time, Squall was...sad. He was sad he never had the chance to have a chance at a real life. But then again...nobody, no, nobody could change their fate and destiny.  
  
  
  
Garden is my home. Honestly, Seifer, I need not to question it. Things happen. That's just the way it works.  
  
  
  
He stood without another word, placing a gloved hand over his coffee, and left Seifer looking at him, puzzled. He had half expected Squall to give him a half way decent answer, but on the same token, he knew that would never happen. Squall didn't like anyone, to be frank. Much less political associates. Squall had never looked at Seifer as a friend; they had been rivals since they had first set foot on garden grounds. Despite this, Seifer had graciously taken the blow of second in command well. He knew, just as Squall did, that Squall was the better fighter. It didn't bother him in the least; for he had been the reason Squall was so good, in a sense. He kept him going, fighting, striving to be the best. He kept him on his toes during training. Without Seifer, Squall would have never had the motivation to be the best.   
  
  
  
Seifer raised his eyebrows and shook his head, wondering what on earth made Squall leonhart himself.   
  
  
_________________  
  
  
The night cast it's shadow over Deling City, but it was not the only shadow lurking around the border. Two men walked silently, smiles just barely inching at their lips. The man on the left was reasonably taller. He wore a black hat, which concealed shaven, red hair. His eyes were the color of nightfall, a deep, dark blue. His companion stood at his right, wearing the same type of hat, which hid the short, blonde, and curly hair. The taller was the first to speak.  
  
  
  
Stupid gardens, stupid stupid. Things are going accordingly, Jay. All is proceeding as planned. Those ridiculous fools will go to war, plummet into bankruptcy, and all the while we slaughter these Timberian bimbo's. Easy, isn't it? Soon, soon Jay. We'll have the place of that damn Loire ass on the throne of Esthar. And soon we'll have a capitol of our own, how's Reicherville sound?  
  
  
  
The man stuck both his hands in his pockets, grinning sheepishly at no one and nothing in particular. He turned to where his partner walked, awaiting an answer that he guessed would be snide.   
  
  
Look, Chess. I'm not in the mood for your inane and insane dreams. This mission is failing..miserably. That bitch of a commander is doing us all in, and that other scum bag too.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Wig out about it, why don't you. Look. Let's just do what Dracne tells us, and not question. This is a shit load of money, and a helluh power. Get used to it, brother.  
  
  
  
So what're we doing now?  
  
  
  
Assassinating Leonhart's second in command. Assassinating Almasy.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
**Authors Note:** Sorry r so short. ::beats self:: and sorry it took so long. I feel like a dud, and I realllllly don't like this chapter. So shoot me, k thx.


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